


Tell Me Where The Good Men Go

by citrusfriend



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Aromantic Characters, Asexual Character, Autistic Kageyama Tobio, Bisexual Character, Character Death, Dissociation, Dysphoria, Elemental Magic, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Genderfluid Yamaguchi, Government Experimentation, I might have gore later who knows, Mental Illness, Nonbinary Akaashi, Nonbinary Terushima, Nonbinary kenma, Pansexual Character, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Schizophrenia, Trans Character, Trans Goshiki, Trans Hinata, Trans Oikawa Tooru, Violence, a lot of people die, everyone suffers, im not sorry, nonbinary suga, psychotic breaks, trans yahaba, trans yaku
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-03-02 02:32:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13308549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusfriend/pseuds/citrusfriend
Summary: After the Axis Powers won World War II, people with supernatural powers came out of hiding and began fighting back against the dictatorships. They called themselves Elementals. The government created Anti-Elemental, or AE, companies to create weapons to eradicate them.Decades have passed and Elementals are primarily in hiding. When some of the newest batch of AE assets escape and join an Elemental family, Elementals may finally have a chance. But the AE are far from defeated.[basically the mutant/elemental superpower au none of you wanted][discontinued]





	1. Rebellion Is Easier On Paper

**Author's Note:**

> Listen y'all those character death tags are not to be taken lightly. A fuckload of people die. There's so much angst. I'm not even sorry.
> 
> Anyway, I have a few chapters already written and most of this planned out, but like?? Idk how long this shit will take. 
> 
> For anyone who cares, the title is from Heaven Knows by Five For Fighting.

  1. **Akaashi Keiji**



   Exhaustion was seeping into Keiji’s bones, but they forced themself to keep running. They weren’t in panic mode anymore, but they didn’t know if they were _anything_ anymore. Whether it was the shock or dissociation, they felt nothing except the words “ _go without us”_ ricocheting around in their skull. Sakusa’s breaths sounded more like gasps beside them, but neither of them proposed stopping. At least the exhaustion could keep the guilt away.

    They didn’t know which direction they were fleeing to. They swerved often, sloppily trying to ensure they weren’t being followed by anyone who survived, but Keiji was so dead to their senses that anyone could easily ambush them. Occasionally, they would collapse on the prickly grass until their muscles stopped spasming or they would fall into brief, tumultuous sleep.

    It was dark for the third or fourth time since the two of them had escaped when Keiji tumbled to the dirt again. Sakusa tried to stop when he noticed Keiji’s collapse, but the abrupt lack of movement caused him to fall as well, although he, at least, managed to catch himself on a tree.

    Keiji couldn’t move. Their muscles felt heavy and weak, more so than they had ever experienced in their training. They felt dew from the grass seep through their blue scrubs and into their already-trembling skin, but Keiji couldn’t bring himself to care. _Hypothermia would be a fitting way for me to die._

Sakusa didn’t say anything about Keiji’s predicament, which was mildly surprising. Previously, they received some out-of-breathe lecture on how many germs they could collect lying in the grass. Although, given how long they had been running for, Keiji couldn’t blame Sakusa for his silence.

    At some point, they must have fallen into a fitful sleep, because they were suddenly thrown full force into the events of the night before their mad dash had begun. None of them had ever heard Komori so panicked, so unsure, but they all had obeyed without a word, only wide, horrified eyes as the guards advanced.  Everyone around them had pinched expressions with their powers being stretched to their limit. Keiji had long since stopped registering the _bang_ of their guns or the blood being splattering onto the walls. But then the guards had thrown the gas and Keiji had reached out, directly it away from them and then--

    Their head snapped to the side and they were flung back into the present. Instantly, Keiji registered that they had been kicked, and they vaulted to their feet, eyes narrowed and ready for a fight. However, their stance was met by catlike yellow eyes which somehow appeared dismissive, yet sharp. Keiji quickly took stock of the kicker in question; they had an androgynous appearance, with a sharp jawline, dyed blond hair that went to their chin, and a slight build. Not a large physical threat, but those weren’t the eyes of someone with confidence that was unearned.

    “If you’re going to pass out in our territory, you could at least shut up,” the figure grumbled. Distantly, Keiji realized that probably meant they had been screaming. Whoops.

    Keiji didn’t relax their stance as they asked, “Who are you?” They did, however, risk a swift glance behind them. Sakusa was still asleep. _Asshole_.

    The yellow eyes narrowed. “Kozume. They/them,” they answered after a brief hesitation. Keiji raised an eyebrow at the addition of pronouns. They didn’t mind--they used the same pronouns after all--but no AE facility allowed their assets to use the pronouns they wanted.

    “Are you going to kill us?” Keiji asked in a low monotone.

    Kozume shrugged and turned their head to the right. “Kuroo, are we killing them?” they inquired, not raising their voice at all.

    Keiji flinched when a figure dropped from a tree a yard or so away. The figure righted himself quickly, which wasn’t calming in the slightest. The new addition was tall and lanky with wild, spiky black hair that only added to his height. Despite that, he, like Kozume, seemed to be in his late teens.

    “Kenma-a-a, you weren’t supposed to tell them I was here!” the teen whined.

    Kozume sighed. “I didn’t tell them my given name for a reason, Kuroo.”

    Kuroo’s eyes widened. “Shit, sorry!” It looked like Kuroo wanted to say more, but Kozume continued.

    “Are we killing them?”

    Kuroo shook their head and stepped closer to Kozume. “Not unless Saeko-sama says so.” Kuroo turned towards Keiji. “I’m Kuroo, he/him pronouns.” He grinned in a way that was probably intended to be welcoming, but when coupled with the way his eyes were narrowed and studying Keiji, it didn’t come across that way.

    Keiji’s eyes flitted around. _How many others are hiding in the trees?_ “Akaashi. They/them.”

    Kozume’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, but his expression didn’t change. Kuroo jerked his chin towards Kiyoomi’s sleeping form. “Who’s that?”

    Turning their stance slightly so they could see both Sakusa and the two teens, Keiji grimaced and whistled briefly, starting with a low tone that quickly accelerated into shrill. Even before they had finished the short whistle, Sakusa was on his feet and in a defensive stance. Both the teens in front of them tensed uneasily.

    “Kozume and Kuroo,” Keiji said briefly. “We’re in their territory.” They snapped their left fingers twice. _Do not engage._ Kozume’s eyes darted to their hand and Keiji internally cursed; they were perceptive.

    Sakusa straightened and scanned their surroundings. “Sakusa.”

    “He uses he/him pronouns,” Keiji supplied.

    Kuroo replaced the grin that had disappeared at Sakusa’s sudden awakening. Keiji felt mildly unnerved. “The usual, Kenma?” The teen nodded briefly before turning on their heel and a small gust of wind blew, lifting Kenma above the trees.

    _They’re elementals, then._

Kuroo gestured behind him with a flourish. “Shall we?”

    Keiji didn’t think following complete strangers further into unknown territory was the best idea, but they were long out of good ones. _Besides,_ they reasoned, _it’s not like death would be much of a punishment._

    Sakusa fell into step beside Keiji. They felt a slight bit of relief when they saw Sakusa’s palms were facing forwards, fingers spread. Sakusa would be able to use his powers at a moment’s notice.

    Kuroo, however, looked incredibly relaxed. He walked a few steps ahead of the pair with his arms swinging loosely, so he was either an idiot or confident. Keiji didn’t want to find out which one, especially since they had no idea where they were. It was light now; if they remembered their nature lessons correctly, it was morning. So a few hours, at least, had passed.

    “We’re going to your coven, I assume.” Sakusa’s tone made it sound like a statement rather than an inquiry.

    Kuroo turned and began walking backwards as he pouted at Sakusa. “I hate how that’s what humans call us. Makes us sound like witches.”

    Sakusa’s expression didn’t change. “Who said we’re human?”

    Kuroo grinned delightedly. “Sorry, _lab rats._ But since you’re not human, you’ll have no problem never using that word again.” Despite his light tone, Kuroo’s eyes were hard. This was a threat.

    “Only if you don’t call us _lab rats,_ ” Sakusa sneered. Without glancing over, Keiji knew what his face looked like. Dead and ruthless, just like he had been trained. Kuroo’s face also dropped into something bordering on a glare.

    Keiji attempted to not visibly tense up. The fleeting question of how to keep this from escalating into a fight was drowned by the consuming thought that _Komori would know how to placate them._ Keiji stopped walking. Their skin suddenly felt like it was suffocating them.

    Both boys paused and looked at them, questioning, but Keiji just suppressed a shudder and resumed walking. Kuroo shrugged and turned around, leading them again, ending the brief stand-off.

    _Wasn’t as subtle as Komori, but that seemed to have at least done something._

Shortly after, they caught sight of what appeared to be a camp. There were five large, tan, dirtied tents in a wide circular formation with an identical tent in the middle. The only differences between them were small, triangular flags on the top of each tent in a different color. There was a tall foreigner with silvery hair standing in the middle of the tent circle arguing with a significantly shorter man with light brown hair.

    Once they had passed the tent circle, Kuroo called out, “Oi, stop harassing him, Lev!”

    The tall one--Lev--turned towards them with a grin, but the expression faltered when he saw the newcomers. The cheerful expression bounced back quickly, though. “Oh, did you find the modified guys?” The foreigner bounced on his heels. _They knew who we were from the beginning._ Keiji felt sick.

    Suddenly, water materialised  above the foreigner and drenched him completely. “Saeko-sama’s in storage,” the shorter one told Kuroo, ignoring Lev’s indignant, but unsurprised, yelps. Something told Keiji that this was a regular occurrence for them. Sakusa studied the interaction in silence.

    “Thanks, Yaku. Good luck with that.” Kuroo jerked his chin to the dripping Lev.

    “Yaku-sa-a-an, what was that for?” Lev whined as Kuroo led them away.

    “If you knew how to use your powers, this wouldn’t bother you.”

    “I know how to use my powers!”

    Kuroo grinned at Keiji conspiratorially. “They’re fucking,” he whispered.

    Keiji only blinked in response.

    They approached a tent with a red flag and Kuroo pulled the entrance open. “After you.”

    Neither of them moved. “You must be an idiot if you think I’ll let you be behind me,” Keiji said in monotone.

    Kuroo shook his head in mock despair. “What, after the whole ten minutes that you’ve known me, you still don’t trust me?” he teased. Nonetheless, he entered the tent first, followed by Keiji and Sakusa.

    Keiji’s first impression was that the interior was that it was a complete disaster. Opened boxes and small shelves lined the walls and random items were scattered on the floor. In the middle of the tent there was a large wooden table with crumpled papers and notebooks. A lantern dangled from the high ceiling precariously. At the table stood a short woman with dyed blond hair that was cut into an uneven pixie cut and a boy with curly black hair who, if his tapping fingers and flitting eyes weren’t faked, was either anxious or self-conscious. They seemed a few years older than Keiji, maybe in their early twenties.

    The woman looked up from a folder and grinned. “So you two are the runaways from Fukurodani.”

    Keiji could almost hear Sakusa thinking _they know where we’re from and we know nothing about them._

Keiji lifted their chin. “And you’re the leader of the elementals here,” they responded, purposely keeping their voice neutral. They weren’t completely sure that she was, but it seemed like a reasonable assumption. Since the elementals knew who they were, they wouldn’t be stupid enough to dismiss them.

    The woman didn’t look surprised by Keiji’s observation, but the boy next to her did. “Tanaka Saeko, she/her. This is Moniwa Kaname, he/him,” she said, indicating the boy next to her.

    “Why are we here?” Kiyoomi asked, voice flat.

    Tanaka’s grin transformed into a smirk and her eyebrow piercing glinted. “What, not going to introduce yourselves?”

    “You know which AE company we’re from and where to find us, so I’m sure you can figure it out. Answer the question.”

    Keiji wasn’t sure if Sakusa’s demand was the best course of action, but they kept quiet, eyeing the way Kuroo was grinning in the corner. Despite his commanding disposition, Kuroo was clearly a subordinate of Tanaka, but Keiji sensed no tension between them.

    Tanaka spread her hands in surrender. “Alright, Sakusa Kiyoomi.” Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes at the blatant admission, but the man--Moniwa--spoke.

“Fukurodani isn’t the closest AE company to us, but it is--was--the most dangerous. As Akaashi Keiji said, we’re elementals, so we’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

Keiji tried not to flinch at the use of their full name.

    Their explanation made sense, though. AE companies were part of the Anti-Elemental Initiative the government had begun nearly twenty years ago, and Fukurodani had been the best in Japan before they had destroyed it. Every elemental coven had probably been keeping tabs on it.

    “It was only coincidence that you ran into our territory,” Tanaka explained. “Any further and you would be reaching the Nohebi family.”

    Kuroo visibly tensed at the name, but Moniwa and Tanaka paid him no mind.

    Sakusa hadn’t relaxed at all, but Keiji knew that he had accepted the explanation.

    “Are we your prisoners?” Keiji inquired, eyes focusing on Tanaka’s reaction.

    She laughed. “I’m sure you could break out of here if you wanted. But,” her eyes hardened, “if you’re looking to attack _any_ elemental family, we won’t hesitate to kill you.”

    It was Sakusa’s turn to laugh, although his was more sardonic than anything. “The last thing I want to do is to help the bastards who created us.”

    Tanaka’s eyes lightened again, and Moniwa’s fingers stopped tapping. They were both more tense than they had been letting on, then. “Good. If that’s the case, we’d love to have you stay with us. You know how AE facilities function and your powers could be beneficial.”

    Keiji wasn’t sure if that was an offer or a threat, so they decided to test the waters. “There are three AE companies other than Fukurodani and they all had different approaches,” they said carefully.

    Tanaka shrugged. “You still know more than we do.”

    “Then how do you know our names?” Sakusa countered, voice hard.

    Tanaka smirked. “Government put you two out as fugitives. Everyone knows your names.”

    “We won’t force you to tell us anything,” Moniwa interjected, returning back to the original request.

    “But humans will turn you over to AE officials and Nohebi will kill you,” Tanaka countered. Her eyes were glinting dangerously, but Keii was starting to think that she always looked like that.

    “What do you think?” Sakusa asked in Korean, eyes not leaving Tanaka’s. Moniwa’s eyes narrowed at the language change and flickered over to where Kuroo stood towards the side.

    “I want to tell them out of complete spite,” Keiji answered. Kuroo’s lips twitched. “I also think Kuroo speaks Korean.”

    Kuroo’s eyes widened and Sakusa’s face stiffened temporarily before relaxing into a smirk. “Do you want to stay here?” This time, he spoke in Tagalog.

    Keiji rolled their eyes. “Are you seriously competing with him over how many languages you know?” They also switched languages.

    Kuroo looked surprised and lost, so he probably didn’t understand. Sakusa’s smirk deepened.

    With a sigh, Keiji nodded. “If they kill us, they kill us. It’s better than being turned in, and there’s no way elementals would help the AE.”

    Sakusa nodded and reverted back to Japanese. “There are four Anti-Elemental companies in Japan: Fukurodani, Aoba Johsai, Karasuno, and Shiratorizawa,” he began without preamble.

Tanaka nodded; this was common knowledge.

    “Three, now, since Fukurodani is gone,” Keiji interjected softly.

    “They’re all government-funded, but they’re more competitors than anything because the founders disagreed on at which age they should begin experimentation.” Sakusa’s face twisted into a sneer. “Fukurodani was the first company formed; they genetically modified pregnant mothers so we were born with our powers. Karasuno was created a few years later, modifying children as young as five. Then Aoba Johsai, with preteens. Lastly, Shiratorizawa. They don’t particularly care about age; their stipulation is that their assets have to volunteer. Everyone else just snatches whoever they want.” Bitterness permeated from Sakusa’s voice. Moniwa looked sympathetic, but the others remained unaffected.

    “They experiment on assets for a while, but once they’re satisfied with the…” Keiji hesitated, “-the _results,_ they start training. At Fukurodani, at least, it was almost all combat. We were weapons.”

    They paused, uncertain as to what else the elementals wanted to know.

    Luckily, Moniwa seemed to realize this. “The companies don’t work together at all?”

    Both Sakusa and Keiji shook their heads. “They’re too competitive for that. Karasuno and Aoba Johsai, especially.”

    Keiji shifted their feet, preparing for the next question. It seemed they would be there a while.


	2. Control Is A Fickle Thing

  1. **Shimizu Kiyoko**



Kiyoko just wanted a shower. It had been two days since the conditioning session began; a few years ago she wouldn’t have been able to function in the heat. Now, however, she only wanted to get rid of the feeling of her long hair plastered against her skin.

“Ahh, it’s so hot!”

She could also go for some peace and quiet. Unfortunately for her ears, that would never happen with Shouyou around.

Kiyoko eyed the orange-haired boy in question as he sprawled unceremoniously on the large rock. She was sitting in the ground near him, unaffected by how the dry dirt would stain her clothes. They’d been out there so long that none of their outfits were the customary pale orange anymore.

From behind Kiyoko, Suga chuckled softly before setting themself down next to her. “That’s the point, Shouyou.”

Shouyou twisted his body so he was no longer staring at them upside down. “I kno-ow, but  _ still! _ ” He pushed himself up and turned to the short girl who stood a little ways away. “Isn’t it hot, Hitoka?” he demanded.

She chuckled nervously and tucked her short blond hair behind her ear. “This  _ is _ conditioning, Shouyou. It’s supposed to get us used to being in extreme weather.”

Shouyou flung himself against the large rock again and Kiyoko cringed at the low  _ thunk  _ of his skull connecting with it. Thank god for the healing factor that Karasuno had modified them all with, because otherwise she had no doubt that Shouyou would have been dead ten times over.

Shouyou irritably scratched at the skin above the metal collar they all wore. “This is  _ shit _ !” he yelled. Kiyoko sighed, resigned; this always happened after a few days.

“Language,” Suga warned. 

Shouyou just grinned, which look a bit odd with his head hanging upside down. “Parent Suga strikes again.”

_ This’ll only last another day, _ Kiyoko reminded herself. Then Hitoka and Shouyou will reach their limit. She and Suga would stay for another day and a half. Then they’d all go back to a place with a normal temperature.  _ One more day.  _ She tried not to remember her telling herself the same thing yesterday.

\--------

Dried skin had replaced sweat hours ago. Through the haze of heat and pain, Kiyoko could see Suga shaking. She wasn’t sure if it was really as violent as it looked or if Kiyoko’s own trembling made her perception worsen. She took a quick glance at the desert around them and  _ yep she’s definitely shaking.  _ Everything had faded to an out-of-focus, trembling blur of sand and rocks.

__ They lay there like that for a little while; Kiyoko was too distracted by the  _ heat  _ and how tight her  _ skin  _ felt to keep track of time. Eventually, though, the scenery around them dissolved into complete white and a cold blast of air flooded through her.

“Time for Shimizu Kiyoko and Sugawara Koushi is four days, nineteen hours, fourteen minutes, and seventeen seconds. Exit the Conditioning Room through door C,” a female, electronic voice intoned through the intercom.

A flicker of a smile appeared on her face. They had beat their time by six hours together. Her last thought before her vision faded to black was  _ they won’t punish us this time. _

__ Despite lasting longer than her previous sessions in heat conditioning, Kiyoko was released from the hospital with Suga the next day, like they always were. This, too, was because of the healing factor, but Kiyoko wasn’t sure she was that grateful for it this time.

As if they knew what she was thinking, Suga gave her a small smile. “At least we have another month before we have to do conditioning again.”

They received a jab in the ribs from the guards escorting them to their rooms for speaking, but Suga’s grin only grew when Kiyoko brushed her shoulder against their’s in thanks.

Her room, which she shared with Suga, Shouyou, and Hitoka, was deathly quiet. It barely fit the two bunk beds with a small walkway between them that they could only squeeze themselves through if they walked sideways. The two younger teens sat cross-legged on their bottom bunks. Neither of them moved an inch as the guards prodded Suga and Kiyoko into the room and leaving without a word.

As soon as the AE guards left, the teens’ postures relaxed. Shouyou looked up from his tangled hands and grinned. “You beat your records!” he crowed. He didn’t gesture with his hands though; he must have still been exhausted from conditioning. Although, Kiyoko realized, that it was probably the punishment from not beating his record that had him so reserved.

Suga smiled. “We did!” The smile wavered for a second. “How long did the punishment last this time?”

Hitoka resolutely stared at the concrete floor, Shouyou averted his eyes, and Kiyoko narrowed her’s. Shouyou had been taken out the second night and Hitoka on the third morning, which was a full twelve hours before each of their records.

_ “How bad was it?”  _ Kiyoko signed, hands moving sharper than they usually did.

Hitoka cleared her throat. “Shouyou only got back a few hours ago.”

Suga turned their eyes to Kiyoko and she nodded; Suga had given her that look enough to know what they were asking. To make room in the narrow walkway for Shouyou, Kiyoko swung herself onto the bunk above Hitoka’s. Immediately, Shouyou flung himself off his bed and into Suga’s waiting arms.

Although the length of time for punishments varied depending on the infraction, they always seemed to last years. Based on Shouyou’s unscathed appearance, he had probably spent his time in the Video Room after his recovery in the hospital. He shook in Suga’s arms.

Suga seemed to reach the same conclusion. “Do you want to talk about it?” they asked and they sunk to the floor to hold Shouyou more firmly.

“Dysphoria,” came the response, muffled by Suga’s shoulder.

That seemed to be the most common thing for Shouyou to experience in the video room. Kiyoko could only imagine how much it stung to be led to the “girls’” room after that. Suga, however, had experienced it firsthand, being agender, so they tightened their grip and murmured affirmations. Shouyou’s trembling eventually lessened as he fell asleep to the sound of Suga’s voice assuring him that he was man enough.

His nap, however, was cut short. All too soon, the familiar  _ clunk  _ of approaching boots echoed down the hallway outside the door and there was a sharp warning knock from the wall that connected with the “boys’” room. Immediately, Suga shook Shouyou awake and let him clamber into his bed before hauling himself into their own. They were practiced motions and within five seconds, they were all in place at the heads of their beds, with crossed legs and bowed heads.

The guards swung the door open. There were only two; they must only be taking one of them. They were dressed in black, plain uniforms, and a mask that covered their entire heads. They looked completely identical, with only height to differentiate them. The masks, Kiyoko knew, were completely soundproof, and they never spoke.

One of them pointed towards her.

Withholding a groan, Kiyoko swung her legs over the side of the bunk and let herself drop; after thirteen years of being held at the Karasuno AE company, she no longer feared the fall from the top bunk. Keeping her head low, she approached the guards with her wrists extended. After cuffing her, one of the guards grabbed her by the elbow and hauled her into the hallway where Tsukishima stood, seemingly at ease with the two guards at his side. Despite knowing him since he was six, Kiyoko never used his given name anymore. Tsukishima was significantly less open with his modified peers, although as she looked into his white eyes, Kiyoko couldn’t blame him.

She sighed and forced herself to look away from the glass that replaced the eyes he had lost years ago to study his appearance as the guards pulled them down the off-white hall. He was tall as ever, but his blond hair was cut shorter, only barely curling, than the last time she saw him. He was limping slightly and his large, grey, dirty wings were pressing tightly against his back. That, in addition to the bruise on his chin, indicated that he hadn’t broken his conditioning record either. His punishment was probably the Combat Room. Kiyoko wondered idly who his sparring partner was this time.

Before she could ruminate on that too much, they were led into a room with grey double doors. The Simulation Room.  _ Goddamn it.  _ Simulations with Tsukishima were always the most difficult. Signing was Kiyoko’s primary mode of communication, but she couldn’t sign at a blind man.

The guards didn’t follow them in after uncuffing them; they never did. The room was pitch black once they had slammed the doors on them. After letting them stand in silence for a minute or so, the lights snapped on, revealing a table with their customary weapons: katanas for Tsukishima and guns for Kiyoko. 

After evaluating the space between them and the table, Kiyoko murmured, “Seven steps,” taking care not to phrase it in a way that could be construed as an order.

Tsukishima smirked and took the steps. “Not gonna order me around, Shimizu-san?”

Pursing her lips, she grabbed her guns.  _ How to phrase this?  _ “I don’t want to hear about your kinks, Tsukishima.” Despite her struggle to put the words together and the roughness of her voice from disuse, there was underlying snark that she knew Tsukishima would hear.

He snorted and snatched his katanas from the table. “You’d make  _ quite  _ the dom, though.”

The table disappeared and the room abruptly extended into a sprawling city. There was trash scattered across the sidewalks and people rushing past the alley she and Tsukishima stood in.

As always, the electronic voice came through the small speaker on their collars. “Location: third floor of the building to your six o’clock. Target: middle aged Japanese woman. Blonde hair, brown eyes. Complete within ten minutes. No witnesses.”

“I’ll take care of the witnesses,” Kiyoko instructed. She had dealt with similar simulations enough that she didn’t have to plan her word structure.

Tsukishima just grunted, strapped his katanas to his side, and extending an arm. There was only the slightest grimace on his face when Kiyoko took it before he grabbed her firmly and extended his wings.

Kiyoko hated flying. Everything about her, from her demeanor, her expressions, her words, was to exert control over herself. She couldn’t stop the AE scientist’s experiments or training, so she fought for control over herself.

Flying took those years of careful indifference and composure and shit on it.

Only the smallest squeak escaped her and it got lost in the wind, but the small, unplanned noise felt like a bullet to her self-control. For a second, Kiyoko couldn’t help but be grateful that Tsukishima couldn’t see how scrunched her face was. She decided to feel guilty about that thought later.

The third floor couldn’t come soon enough, but when they finally reached it, they slammed through a window.

“ _ Shit, _ ” Tsukishima hissed, pushing Kiyoko onto the shattered glass.

She winced when the pieces of glass pushed into her skin, but she rolled to her feet quickly.

“Suga’s gonna come after that tongue of yours,” Kiyoko told him, too off-kilter by flying to lift her voice from a monotone.

Tsukishima clambered to his feet and tucked his wings tightly. “I’m shaking in my boots,” he responded, tone equally dead.

Instead of bothering with a response, she surveyed the room. It was small and empty, aside from stacked tables and a trembling janitor who was blinking rapidly. Kiyoko ran a hand through her dark hair and suppressed a groan.

“Stay still,” she grumbled. Despite her saying it to the janitor, Tsukishima’s hand paused its journey to his katanas.  _ You can’t control this,  _ whispered into her ear, but she pushed it away and checked the ammo in her guns. This time she couldn’t fight a sigh; she only had one bullet in each. Of course. AEF officials needed her to practice her “power.”

“Tsukishima, you can move. Could you go look for the room we need? The door is three steps to the right.” She could have instructed him to put in the earplugs everyone carried during a mission with Kiyoko, but she figured this would be quicker.

Once Tsukishima was out of earshot, Kiyoko turned the safety off on both her guns. Although the janitor still hadn’t moved, she could see the fear in her eyes. Kiyoko couldn’t afford to waste a bullet on her, though--she always saved her bullets after a certain incident with a deaf target--so she stalked towards the door with a clipped, “Jump out the window.”

She tried to convince herself that the door closed quickly enough to keep her from hearing the janitor’s descending scream. She knew she’d remember later anyway.

Kiyoko found Tsukishima down the hall, leaning casually against the wall. He didn’t look up from the ground at the sound of her footsteps, but she hadn’t expected him too.

“Sharon says the target’s in that room,” he grunted, pointing across the hall. Kiyoko decided not to mention that the door was a foot to the right of where he pointed.

“Thanks, Sharon,” she muttered disdainfully and Tsukishima’s lips twitched briefly into a smirk. The name for the electronic voice was one Noya had come up with years ago as a joke, and it had stuck.

“I’ll be on guard duty,” Tsukishima said, pulling out his earplugs. Kiyoko pushed away the guilt that she had taken away another of his senses. Once the plugs were secure, she tapped his shoulder once and slammed her foot into the door, knocking it down effectively.

Instantly, the room full of well-dressed business people turned and gawked at the unexpected intrusion. One man dropped his wine glass.

And then the screams started.

“Shut up!” Kiyoko snapped, making sure she was audible throughout the room. She didn’t need more nightmare material.

Some distant part of her mind reminded her that this was a simulation. The fear in their eyes and shaking limbs didn’t exist. Another part countered that with  _ but if they were simulated, why do they listen? _

__ She forced the thoughts down and swallowed down the knot in her throat. “Kill each other.”

Chaos burst. People went after each other with broken wine glasses, neckties, and fists. One man, however, staggered back, eyes wide and horrified. Kiyoko wanted to apologize for making him witness this, but she just tapped Tsukishima’s shoulder twice and he pulled out the earplugs and let them dangle from his neck.

“Deaf target, one o’clock,” she whispered. Her finger twitched against the trigger of her gun as she watched Tsukishima propel himself towards the man, disregarding the people he hit with his wings. The man’s head fell, but not before his strangled yelp made it to Kiyoko’s ears.

They stood there for awhile, just watching to ensure that no one managed to survive the blood-craze Kiyoko had caused. In the end, Tsukishima only had to cut down four more people--not out of necessity, but because he ‘got bored’ of listening to them die.

Kiyoko wondered if he felt as nauseous as she did. But Tsukishima didn’t have the ability to single-handedly start a genocide, so she supposed not.

“Mission complete. Time completed for Tsukishima Kei and Shimizu Kiyoko is five minutes and fifty-seven seconds,” Sharon intoned.

The room around them disintegrated into black, along with the bodies. Kiyoko tried not to blink; she didn’t want to see the echoes of their existence in her eyelids yet. The doors behind them opened and light flooded Kiyoko’s vision, forcing her to blink briefly, but she forced herself to face the entryway before a flashback started. Tsukishima just turned at the sound, expression emotionless as ever.

They said nothing as the guards escorted them back to their rooms, but Kiyoko managed to glance in the other bedroom. She could only see Daichi and Noya from her angle. Noya looked beaten bloody, but he had his usual bright energy, while Daichi looked unharmed, yet drained. His short brown hair looked more tousled than usual, but Kiyoko was hustled into her room before she could see more.

Once the door was closed again, Shouyou and Suga burst from their positions. Hitoka was missing; she must have been taken out for a test or experiment.

“Who were you partnered with? What did you have to do? Are you okay? Did you get to see anyone in the other room? What happened? Why-”

“Shouyou,” Suga interrupted with a sigh, “she can’t answer if you keep talking.”

Shouyou sat back sheepishly, but his energy didn’t dampen. Kiyoko briefly wondered how his mood had jumped back up so quickly.

“So?” Suga prompted. They weren’t as eager as Shouyou, but the creases in their forehead show their worry.

Before responding, Kiyoko hauled herself onto her bed and turned to Suga.  _ “I was partnered with Tsukishima,”  _ she signed.

Suga winced in sympathy, knowing how difficult it was for Kiyoko to speak to Tsukishima without unintentionally giving an order, and interpreted her for the eager youth in the bunk below them.

_ “We were in the Simulation Room,” _ Kiyoko continued signing.  _ “On the way back, I saw Daichi and Noya in the other bedroom.” _

Suga’s face smoothed in relief. The occupants of the two rooms were too disconnected to have reliable communication, and they only used knocks to warn of incoming guards or if someone had died. Using the knocks too often would undoubtedly result in further separation between them.

After Suga had translated, their bed shook; Shouyou had probably jumped again. Her suspicions were confirmed by his happy, “Noya-senpai!”

_ “Noya looked beaten, but otherwise okay,”  _ she signed, hands moving slower than before.

This news was met by a deflated “Noya-senpai…” from Shouyou.

Suga opened their mouth to speak, but was interrupted by footsteps down the hall and a quick knock from the other room. Instantly, they fell into their cross-legged position at the heads of each of their beds.

_ I hate this. _


	3. For A Standing Ovation

  1. **Oikawa Tooru**



    When she had first been given her telepathy, Tooru thought it was a gift. After all, it was as if the AE scientists at Aoba Johsai were giving back the hearing the world had stolen from her at birth.

    But now, with her hands tearing at her short, wavy brown hair, Tooru wished they had let her be. Everything was so _loud,_ so _intrusive,_ and dammit, Tooru just wanted to sleep. Instead, she was curled into a tight ball, trying to keep her mind out of everyone else’s.

    Images of the people Kyoutani had ripped apart flashed in Tooru’s eyelids. Yahaba’s burning hatred for his body, for his chest, for his existence, seemed to tear at Tooru’s own. Watari’s crippling feelings of isolation seemed to form a wall between Tooru and the rest of the teens in the room. Iwa-chan’s festering guilt over Makki and Mattsun’s death exacerbated Tooru’s own.

    None of them were asleep. All of them were pretending that they were. Iwa-chan wanted to reach out across the mere inches to touch Tooru’s convulsing form, but he was afraid she would reject him.

    Tooru was afraid she would reject him.

    At some point, she sunk into a fitful sleep that was full of nightmares that weren’t her own. There were flashes of an operation she never went through, being sold to the AE by parents that weren’t hers, and towards the end, she saw herself.

    She saw her brown hair lying in the loose cowlick that always took her at least an hour to tame, but too short for her liking. She saw her face, strong and too masculine to feel like it belonged. She saw her tall frame, the lack of curves, and was filled with revulsion. But this wasn’t her dream, it was Iwa-chan’s, and his feelings of affection drowned out Tooru’s dysphoria. She never liked seeing herself through his eyes; he thought too highly of her, admired the burning determination in her eyes. He felt everything so _strongly_ and Tooru couldn’t _breathe._

Then Iwaizumi’s awe made way for horror as Tooru’s tall frame suddenly morphed into the shaking, trembling skeleton he had first met when they were twelve in the cage Aoba Johsai had thrown them in. Iwa-chan hardly noticed the others in the cage, all of whom were now dead. Tooru watched as the AEF guards yanked her, beat her, and Tooru couldn’t breathe. She could remember that first night all too well, could still feel their hands _everywhere,_ but to watch it from someone else’s perspective was something she could never grow accustomed to, no matter how many times Iwaizumi had this nightmare.

    Tooru woke up screaming. No one so much as turned to face her; all of them were used to nightmares. She sat in her one blanket, trembling and crying, until her breathing was somewhat regular. Once she could breathe, she surveyed the room around her. Watari and Iwaizumi were still asleep, both of them on the floor to Tooru’s right, and Yahaba and Kyoutani were talking on the other side of the small room. Their blankets were folded tightly against the wall.

    Fighting every instinct screaming to trespass into one of the boys’ minds, Tooru shakily stood and folded her blanket the way she had every day for six years, placing it next to Yahaba’s at the wall when she was finished.

    _[What time is it?]_ Yahaba’s thought appeared too forcefully to be dismissed to be something Tooru read accidentally.

    Tooru pushed her scope of mind outwards to one of the AEF guards outside their door and instantaneously, information flooded her brain.

    His name was Nakamura Atsushi, 43 years old, working for AEF for three years, had a wife, five children, unresolved sexual insecurity, aching feet, his shift ended in ten minutes, favorite color yellow-

    Tooru sucked in a breath. _Focus on the time,_ she told herself.

    Out of the corner of Nakamura Atsushi’s eye was a clock. Frankly, that clock was the only reason any of them were sane. Tooru pulled out of the man’s head and into Yahaba’s.

    “It’s 5:32,” Tooru answered. Yahaba was impressed--it had only taken him three seconds to answer this time--but he only nodded in response.

    Tooru pulled back out of Yahaba’s head. His dysphoria, being a transman, and Tooru’s, being a transwoman, always left her feeling worthless and ungrateful for the body Yahaba wanted so _badly_.

    As soon as Tooru had pulled away from Yahaba’s head, everyone’s thoughts burst into Tooru’s consciousness. While he was less guilt-provoking, Kyoutani’s thoughts were louder. His more shallow thoughts permeated with anger, but the more hidden ones, the ones Tooru violently tried to avoid, only held fear, grief, and shame. However, he also had enhanced senses, which was useful to her. Tooru wished Watari was awake; his nightmares were awful to witness, but his conscious mind was the most soothing. Iwaizumi always tried to smooth out his thoughts whenever Tooru asked, but the perpetual feeling of responsibility that he held was too much for her to handle.

    To avoid the constant chatter of thoughts overwhelming her, Tooru focused on Kyoutani. He was primarily focused on Yahaba; his short, light brown hair tousled from sleep, how he was hunched over more than usual and kept pulling his shirt away from himself--he was dysphoric today, Kyoutani concluded--the bits of sleep around his brown eyes. Despite herself, Tooru’s lips twitched into a smile. Kyoutani was so much more free with his thoughts in the morning.

    Tooru sat against the wall and let herself be swept away by Kyoutani’s perception of Yahaba’s voice. Despite having her powers for four years, being able to hear, even if it was secondhand, was still a novelty.

    “I hope we’re doing combat training today,” Yahaba mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

    Kyoutani just grunted. He knew Yahaba would continue no matter what his response was.

    “If you get your ass beat badly enough, maybe they’ll let you shower. You reek,” Yahaba wrinkled his nose in exaggerated disgust. Kyoutani knew it was bait, but with  flash of irritation, he decided to indulge him.

    “As if you smell any better,” he snapped.

    “At least I don’t smell like a wet dog.”

    A new consciousness prodded at Tooru; Iwaizumi was awake.

    “Lets see you smell like flowers and roses with this fur,” Kyoutani grumbled, lifting his fur-coated arm for emphasis.

    “Maybe you should lick yourself clean.” The smirk was obvious in Yahaba’s voice.

    Kyoutani felt a rush of revulsion and his face scrunched up, but he was interrupted before he could retort.

    “Yahaba, keep your fetish to yourself,” Iwa-chan called out, voice gruff with sleep.

    Tooru snickered as Yahaba’s face flushed with embarrassment and indignation. Kyoutani coughed loudly and tried to keep his thoughts away from what Yahaba’s fetishes might actually be.

    “Would that be a fetish or a kink?” Tooru wondered around her snickers.

    Kyoutani whispered a passionate, _“Jesus Christ”_ and Tooru just cackled louder until Yahaba’s thought forced itself into Tooru’s consciousness. _[That sounds like something Makki would have said.]_ Tooru flinched, but tried to keep the smile on her face to avoid Iwa-chan’s concern. Yahaba’s face darkened marginally, but Tooru doubted anyone noticed.

    Iwa-chan shuffled out of his blanket with a smirk. Forcing the memories of Makki out of her head, Tooru leaned over and poked Iwa-chan’s leg. “Your hair looks like shit,” she hissed conspiratorially.

    Iwa-chan whipped her shoulder with his blanket lightly. “Your hair is worse,” he shot back easily.

    Tooru expected that answer, but she threw herself on the dirty ground dramatically anyway. “Iwa-chan is so mean to me!” she whined into the concrete.

    She could almost feel Iwaizumi roll his eyes as he began folding his blanket. “You insulted me first, Shittykawa.”

    Tooru rolled onto her back and pouted up at Iwa-chan. He ignored her. After he set his folded blanket against the wall, Tooru sat up and leaned against her elbows. “Iwa-chan, you almost look tall with me down here,” she snickered.

    Yahaba coughed a laugh as Iwaizumi glowered at Tooru. “Oikawa, you are literally only five centimeters taller than me.”

    Tooru smirked. “It’s okay, I like short guys.”

    Iwaizumi kicked her in the ribs, but she just laughed.

\------------------

    Tooru was bored. Much to Yahaba’s glee, they were, in fact, doing combat training. However, with Kyoutani and Iwaizumi in one ring and Watari and Yahaba in the other, Tooru had to wait for their fights to be over.

    Watari and Yahaba’s fights were never interesting. Since Yahaba was an empath, he didn’t have much use for his powers in a fight, and he was too used to Watari’s pheromone manipulation to have it affect his fighting much. Unless Yahaba was injured, he always won after they danced around each other.

    Iwaizumi and Kyoutani was slightly more interesting. As a technopath, Iwa-chan could reduce Kyoutani’s guns useless. Kyoutani was a wolf-human hybrid, which gave him an edge when he wasn’t riled up, but Iwa-chan was skilled at hand-to-hand combat. Their fight was more interesting, but still predictable; Kyoutani has never won against Iwaizumi.

    So Tooru was bored. She had seen both pairs fight each other too often and if he read any of their minds, she’d see variations of the same strategies they’d been perfecting for years.

    Thankfully, the Kyoutani-Iwaizumi fight ended quickly. They exited the concrete fighting ring--Kyoutani looking sullen as always and Iwaizumi attempting to encourage him--and made their way to way Tooru sat.

    Tooru grinned up at them. “Hurry and drink your water so we can fight!” she ordered, pushing their water bottles up at them. She easily sunk into Kyoutani’s thoughts so she could hear their responses.

    Kyoutani took his water wordlessly, but Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “What are you so eager for, Asskawa?”

    Tooru stuck her tongue out at the nickname. “Watching Iwa-chan beat Mad Dog-chan riled me up!”

    Kyoutani grimaced at the nickname. _[I wish Oikawa would stop calling me that,]_ he thought.

Ignoring his annoyance, Tooru pushed herself to her feet and patted the blond fur on his head. “Don’t mind, don’t mind! You’ll beat him eventually.”

    “Bite me.”

    She tilted her head in mock confusion. “Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that, I’m deaf.”

    Iwaizumi smacked the side of her head. “Lets go.”

    Pouting, Tooru fixed her hair. “Such a brute, Iwa-chan,” she chided, but followed him into the ring anyway.

    Due to a botched operation that resulted in an amputated leg, Tooru hadn’t begun practicing physical combat until she was sixteen, while every other Aoba Johsai asset had begun training at fourteen. Despite her relative inexperience, with her powers, enhanced prosthetic leg, and her knowledge of the others’ fighting tactics from observation, it was quickly realized that one-on-one fights involving Tooru would end in seconds.

    The ring was made completely out of concrete, with thick walls that reached Tooru’s hip. Tooru stood at one entrance to the ring; Kyoutani and Iwa-chan stood on the other. She let the teasing smile slip from her face as they all stepped into the ring.

    Instantly, Tooru seized the two knives stored in her prosthetic leg, not bothering with the gun. Her hand had barely left her metal ankle when the leg was wrenched away from her thigh. Expecting this, Tooru let herself fall and rolled back up, balancing on her left leg with a pout. As she did, she discreetly tucked one knife into the waistband of her pants.

    “They really should make me a wooden leg so you can stop stealing them, Iwa-chan,” she mused casually. Without need to read his mind, she knew Iwa-chan had moved the leg to his side of the ring for later use. Crippling her was always his first move in these fights. _Stupid technopath._

_[You say that every time, idiot]_ Iwa-chan thought. He opened his mouth to voice it, but Tooru pushed her powers deeper into Iwa-chan’s and Kyoutani’s minds and didn’t hear it.

    Glee flooded through her as she allowed her senses to run rampant, capturing every plan her opponents thought of. Iwa-chan tried to drown her out with random, distracting, screaming thoughts, but that trick hadn’t worked in months.

    Kyoutani, however, didn’t care for tricks. As always, he let instincts rule his movements, but Tooru had long since familiarized herself with them. He would wait until Iwa-chan attacked--bullets from her own gun flung themselves at her, but Iwa-chan had planned their trajectory, so she twisted around them easily--before going for her leg.

    Tooru closed her eyes as she grabbed the top of the wall and hauled herself on top of it, leg curled up, seconds before Kyoutani’s claws slashed at where she had stood. He recovered quickly, righting himself to grab--

    A flicker of an idea flitted through Iwa-chan’s head and Tooru had to suppress a smile.

    Kyoutani’s claws suck into her left leg. A mild yelp escaped her, but she disregarded the pain and flung herself into his right side. The two of them tumbled away from the wall and Tooru was conscious of Iwa-chan’s mild concern when he heard Kyoutani heave as his back slammed with the floor.

    Above them, Iwa-chan’s bullets flew from the opposite direction he stood. Iwaizumi flinched out of his bullets’ trajectory. _[Damn it.]_

    _Ah, he must be having my leg firing them._ Tooru pushed into Iwa-chan’s head, and sure enough, he had mangled her poor leg into a stand with a finger to pull the trigger on her own gun. Tooru decides she’ll be mad later.

    Tooru brings the butt of her knife onto Kyoutani’s temple hard enough to cause a mild concussion. She was forced out of his head as he fell unconscious, but she didn’t bothering worrying about permanent damage before she reached into Iwa-chan’s thoughts, determined his location, and flung her knife at his head. Tooru knew he would dodge, but she used the distraction to roll towards her hijacked leg and hurled that at Iwa-chan too. Unlike her knife--which, if Iwa-chan was correct, had landed in the other, now-vacated, fighting ring--the metal leg slammed into Iwaizumi’s gut and he stumbled back.

    Tooru grimaced as she felt the Iwa-chan’s pain. Normally, she could pull herself out of someone’s mind when she knew they would be in pain, but she needed to know what Iwa-chan’s strategy was.

    _[The leg-gun should be enough.]_ Tooru wasn’t sure if Iwa-chan was underestimating her or only thinking that to deceive her. She didn’t care enough to search his head for an answer. Instead, Tooru yanked her second knife out of the waistband of her scrubs, barely noticing how it had cut her thigh during the fight.

    Using his powers, Iwa-chan righted Tooru’s hijacked leg and aimed it towards her. Tooru threw her knife just before pain exploded into her abdomen. As she fell back, Tooru reached into Iwa-chan’s head and smiled.

    Her knife had hit its mark in Iwaizumi’s throat.

    Somewhere in the swirl of her pain and his, she caught Iwa-chan’s angry thought, _[Stand up, you idiot.]_

Oh. Right. She pushed herself out of Iwa-chan’s mid as best she could and forced herself off of her back. They only counted it as a win if she was still standing.

    She hoped the medics get to her Iwa-chan in time. She didn’t want him to die too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit's been happening recently (switching therapists, possibly switching schools, psychosomatic bullshit, sickness), but hey, an update.
> 
> Anyway, you've met all of the POV characters now. Don't hate the cliffhanger.


	4. Paint Me Pretty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a panic attack scene. If you want to skip it, stop reading at "Akaashi... I'm not your superior" and skip to "Akaashi, can you look at me?"  
> There will be a recap of what happened at the end of the chapter.

  1. **Akaashi Keiji**



Most of their questions were easy. Who ran Fukurodani (Takeyuki Yamiji), did they store their files anywhere outside the facility (no), when were the assets going to graduate from training (no idea). Then Moniwa asked the question Keiji had been dreading.

“How did you two escape?”

He might as well have stabbed them. Keiji’s jaw snapped shut and Sakusa stiffened and stepped closer to Keiji.

_ Don’t ask that. Don’t ask. Please I can’t think about that again, not again nonono- _

__ “Ah, maybe we should continue this tomorrow,” Kuroo interjected. Keiji blinked in surprise; he hadn’t spoken since they had entered the tent. “I’m sure they’re tired.”

Keiji threw him a thankful look before their eyes fell to the carpet.  _ Stop thinking. _

__ Tanaka looked like she wanted to protest, but Moniwa touched her arm and said, “That’s fine.”

Tanaka’s nose scrunched; she wasn’t happy about this. But she nodded nonetheless. “Do you want to stay with us? It’ll be safer than anywhere else.”

Keiji felt Sakusa’s eyes on them, but they said nothing.

“That’s fine,” he answered.

Tanaka nodded and smiled. “Tetsurou will show you around.”

It wasn’t until he grabbed two bags from the corner and turned to exit the tent that Keiji realized Tanaka was talking about Kuroo.

_ Kuroo Tetsurou, huh. _

__ With an uneasy glance back at Tanaka and Moniwa, Keiji followed Kuroo out, Sakusa close behind. It was still light, although it was hotter than when they had entered. Keiji guessed they had been in there a few hours.

“So,” Kuroo began, turning to face them. “All of the tents have a flag on top to indicate which one it is, but it’ll probably take you awhile to memorize it.”

Keiji wondered if they should tell them that they were both trained to be able to remember instructions since they were children.

“The white flag is the hospital tent and the red flag,” Kuroo jerked his chin to the tent in the center that they had just exited, “is for meetings and storage. Saeko-sama is almost always in there.”

“Why do you call Tanaka-san by her given name?” Sakusa inquired.

Kuroo shrugged. “I dunno, she just prefers it,” he answered and then continued with his spiel. “The black tent is a spare, the blue, and green flags are the boys’ tents, pink is the girls’, and the purple flag is for the ‘gender is an illusion, fuck off’ tent.”

Keiji smirked at that last one.

Kuroo began walking towards one of the tents. “Sakusa-kun, you’ll be in green, and I’m assuming you want purple?” He glanced over at Keiji, who nodded. “I’m in the blue tent, if you need me.”

When they reached the tent with a green flag, Kuroo stopped and slammed his foot into the cloth door. Based on the many footprints there, Keiji guessed that this was Kuroo’s regular greeting.

“Go away, Kuroo!” was the response.

Kuroo laughed and Keiji was starting to wonder if staying with the elementals was the best idea. “Aw, c’mon, Futakuchi!”

“No.”

“I brought you a new roommate,” he called.

The boy inside the tent unzipped the door and poked his head out. He had straight brown hair that fell over one eye and reached his chin. He hardly glanced at Keiji and Sakusa before fixing on Kuroo with a glower. “Which one?”

Sakusa stepped in front of Keiji. “Yo.”

Futakuchi gave him a once-over. “What’s your opinion of Kuroo?”

“Shitty hair.”

Kuroo’s face fell from smug to scandalized, but Futakuchi grinned and pulled the door open. “Welcome to the Kuroo Hate Club.”

Kuroo’s expression was more affronted than any other Keiji had seen, so they added, “I’m not in that tent, but can I join the club?”

Kuroo’s jaw flopped open. “Not you too!”

Futakuchi held Keiji’s eyes. “Everyone’s welcome,” he said gravely and let the tent door fall closed.

Kuroo stared at the tent for a few more seconds. “Betrayed by my own kouhai.”

Keiji fought a smirk but said nothing. After a few seconds, Kuroo blinked and cleared his expression. He dropped one of the bags he had brought and gave the tent one last kick.

“I’ll leave Sakusa’s futon out here,” he called before turning and walking to the other tent, not waiting for a reply.

This time, Kuroo just tapped the tent wall with his knuckles. “I have a roommate delivery.”

“Go away, Kuroo.”

Kuroo raised his hands in dismay. “Why does no one love me?”

The tent door unzipped quickly and someone with an undercut and dyed blonde hair barrelled out. “I love you, man! Kenma’s just salty.”

Kuroo grinned. “Teru, I knew I could count on you, man.” They proceeded to do a complicated handshake before the newcomer turned towards Keiji.

“Terushima Yuuji,” they said with a grin and Keiji blinked in surprise.  _ Is that… metal in their tongue? _

__ “Akaashi Keiji.”

Kozume poked their head out of the tent. “Yuuji, my toes are dry.”

Terushima’s face seemed to brighten even further and they glanced between Keiji and Kuroo. “Do you two want to paint your nails?”

Keiji’s eyebrows furrowed.  _ Paint our nails? _

__ Kuroo shook his head, seemingly dismayed. “Nah, I gotta meet with Yaku about Lev.”

Terushima clucked their tongue.  _ There is definitely metal in there.  _ “What a shame.” They turned towards Keiji. “You?”

Keiji shifted their weight nervously, glancing at Kuroo and Kozume. “I… don’t know what ‘painting nails’ means.”

Kuroo blinked in surprise and Terushima’s mouth fell open. Kozume’s face didn’t change, but they did duck back into the tent.

“Ehh?! How can you not- Come on, I’ll show you.” Terushima reached forward to grab their wrist, but Keiji flinched back. To their credit, Terushima didn’t seem bothered and just waved for them to follow them into the tent. Trepidation lingered, but Kuroo gave an encouraging nod, handed them the bag, and jogged off. There was a lingering feeling of  _ danger,  _ especially without Sakusa at their side, but Keiji couldn’t bring themself to care if they killed him, so Keiji entered the tent.

It was smaller than the storage tent. There were two rolled up futons on the far side of the tent and three crates to the right of the door. Keiji guessed that there would be enough room for them all, but if there was a fourth, they would be cramped. In the middle of the tent was a small bag and scattered small, colorful bottles in front of Kozume, who had a glowing box in his hands. Terushima plopped down next to them and pulled Kozume’s feet into their lap and studied them. Kozume didn’t even blink.

Keiji had no idea what was going on, so they just dropped the bag and sat on the other side of Kozume, who, upon further inspection, had red toenails.

“How… are your toes red?” Keiji ventured hesitantly.

__ Terushima didn’t seem to mind Keiji’s ignorance. “I painted them,” they explained, gesturing at the colored bottles. “Pick one.”

Keiji glanced down and them back up to Terushima’s brown eyes. “Is this some sort of elemental ritual?”

Barking out a laugh, Terushima shook their head.

“It’s... something humans do to look pretty,” Kozume murmured, pushing buttons on their box.

“Oh.” Keiji wasn’t sure why people would want to look pretty--don’t they have missions to complete? But then they remembered that humans didn’t go on missions; assets did. Keiji wasn’t sure if the elementals would give them missions, but they did like the way Kozume’s toes shined.

Keiji grabbed a gold bottle because it glittered the most. “Is this one okay?”

Terushima nodded easily. “Do you want me to paint your toes or your fingers?”

Keiji felt a rush of something--excitement?--and their eyes widened. “You can do fingers too?” they whispered.

Terushima laughed again. Keiji wondered how someone could be that happy. “Of course! Let me see your hands.”

The next hour or so was spent as a crash-course of what Terushima called “self-care.” Keiji’s fingernails were a glimmering gold and their toes were “matte” black, but Keiji didn’t know how it was any different from a normal black. Kozume had pulled out something called make-up, but Keiji didn’t want them touching their face, so Kozume and Terushima did their own while Keiji watched in awe.

Keiji lost track of how many tubes they opened and applied to their faces as Terushima chattered on about people Keiji didn’t know. Kozume barely reacted, but Terushima didn’t mind. As they applied Terushima called a “contour,” they finished up some story about a boy named Bokuto and then glanced over at Keiji.

“So you’re one of the modified kids from Fukurodani, right?” they asked casually.

Keiji was confused again (they were growing annoyed at how often that had happened today).  _ If they know I’m from an AE company, why are they being so nice to me?  _ They decided not to ask and just nodded.

Terushima turned more fully to face them. “You have powers, then?”

Keiji hesitated and Kozume looked away from a mirror. “We do too. I’m an air elemental. Yuuji’s a water elemental.” Keiji was realizing that Kozume always spoke slowly and carefully, like they were planning each word before speaking.

_ If they wanted to kill me, they could have when they first found me in the forest. _

__ “I’m telekinetic.”  _ Are you going to be afraid of me? _

__ Kozume’s eyebrow quirked up, but they continued to apply makeup. 

“That’s dope as hell!” Terushima announced.

Keiji tried to hide their surprise. “Ah, it’s not that great,” they muttered, looking away from Terushima’s bright, attentive eyes. “I was one of the weakest at Fukurodani.”

“There’s one other here. What does he do?” Kozume asked. They appeared disinterested, like they were just asking out of courtesy or to take Terushima’s focus off of Keiji. 

Keiji wasn’t sure which it was, so they just answered, “Sakusa does molecule manipulation.”

Kozume’s hand paused halfway to their face.

“Holy shit! Seriously?” Terushima demanded. “I’m jealous; that sounds so cool.”

Keiji gave a short chuckle. “He hates it.”

Terushima tilted their head, curious, but they continued with their makeup.

Keiji figured their silence was a prompt to continue. “He’s conscious of everything around him on a molecular level, so he’s pretty germaphobic.”

Terushima hummed thoughtfully. “My sister had OCD like that.”  _ Had? _ “Kenma, do we have any face masks in the hospital tent?”

Kozume shrugged. “Ask Moniwa-sama.” They put a brush down, studying the mirror once more before packing up the tubes they used.

Terushima pressed a tube to their lips that turned them red before also packing everything up. Their makeup was brighter, bolder than Kozume’s, whose changes were subtle. Kozume extracted a glowing box from their pocket--different, smaller than the black one from earlier--and pursed their lips.

“Johzenji is doing dinner preparation today, right? It’s just past five.”

Terushima froze, half-standing with the bag of makeup in their hand. “Shit.” They darted past Keiji, tossed the makeup into a crate, and flew out the door while Keiji stared after them in exasperated confusion.

“Saeko-sama didn’t tell you about the units, did she?” Kozume sighed. They had pulled out the first glowing box again and was pushing buttons. “We’re the Tanaka family of elementals, but we have three subunits: Johzenji, Nekoma, and Dateko. Kuroo and I are in Nekoma and Yuuji’s in Johzenji. They’ll... probably put you in one after they get an understanding of your abilities.” The more they spoke, the softer and slower the words were. Keiji wondered just how draining it was for Kozume to speak.

“Thank you, Kozume-san,” Keiji said, uncertain of how else to respond. They filed the information away and made a mental note to relay it to Sakusa.

Kozume pushed the buttons harder for a few seconds before returning to normal. “You… can just call me Kenma. Everyone does.”

Keiji froze. Something in their chest felt like it had crash-landed into their gut. “B-but you’re my superior.” Keiji was vaguely conscious of their voice sounding choked, but that wasn’t far off from how they felt.

Part of Keiji’s periphery noted Kozume slowly set their box down to look at them.

The words seem to repeat in their head. “ _ You can just call me Kenma.” _

__ “Akaashi... I’m not your superior,” Kozume said carefully.

Keiji violently shook their head. Breathing seemed harder than usual.

_ The guards leering face loomed over them. “Eyes open.” _

__ _ The scalpel pressed into Keiji’s hairline.  _

__ _ “List the rules.” _

__ Keiji shook their head again. “No. No. Rule one: I am an asset and have no identity. Rule two: everyone is either my superior, asset, or target. Rule three: my superiors’ will is my will. Rule four: use -san or -sama when I am allowed to speak to my superiors. Rule five-”

“Akaashi, I need you to breathe.” The words were soft and Keiji didn’t know why. They were reciting the rules, so surely Keiji did something wrong. Is this a test?

“Rule five: you are always wrong. Rule six: apologize when prompted. Rule-”

“Akaashi, please open your eyes. You’re safe.”

Keiji doesn’t recognize that voice, but the words sound like something Komori would say. But Keiji never had to recite the rules with Komori since he was an asset too. This must be a test.

“Rule seven: feel nothing. Rule eight: obey.” Keiji took a deep breath when they finished and waited. There was always a blow when they finished reciting the rules.

It didn’t come. Instead, a cold hand tentatively touched the side of Keiji’s face. At some point, they had bowed face-down onto their hands.

“Akaashi, those aren’t the rules here,” the soft voice whispered and white-hot fear cascaded over Keiji.

“I’m-”

“You left Fukurodani. You’re free,” the voice insisted. Their hand was running through Keiji’s hair now and they suppressed a shudder.

_ Don’t flinch; you’ll be punished. _

__ “I’m sorry, sir. It’s my fault. You can punish me however you like, sir,” Keiji murmured the rehearsed apology as quickly as they could. Their chest was imploading.

“You  _ don’t  _ need to apologize. You did nothing wrong. You won’t be punished here, Akaashi.”

_ What? _

__ “Akaashi, can you look at me?”

Instantly, Keiji pulled themself up to face the soft voice to comply. They blinked. They recognized this person… “Kozume-san?”

_ This… this isn’t Fukurodani. What is going on?  _ Keiji’s implosion spread to their throat.

__ Kozume’s eyes were wide and calculating, but not cruel. “Hey, you don’t have to panic. You’re safe. Can you breathe with me?” They took a deep breath and after a second, Keiji copied. They breathed like that for awhile and eventually, the implosion in Keiji’s lungs faded into a low burn.

“I… don’t know what just happened,” Keiji began once they were able to breathe alone.

Kozume sat back on their heels. “You had a flashback,” they said simply.

Keiji blinked. “Oh.”

Kozume stood. “Dinner will be soon... Do you have enough energy to go? I can bring you food if you want to stay here.”

Fighting through the fog that had settled in their head, Keiji tilted their head. “Will they let you?”

Kozume shrugged. “Kuro does it for me whenever I have a flashback.”

Keiji didn’t ask and just slowly shook their head. “If I don’t go, Sakusa will worry.”

He wouldn’t. He would be angry, but that seemed harder to explain, so Keiji didn’t.

Kozume just nodded and padded over to the crates. Two of them held clothes and the third had a makeup bag, the nail polish, and a plethora of small objects. Kozume pulled out a small red ribbon and held it towards Keiji. Hesitantly, Keiji stood and took it.

“Tie it in knots. It’ll give you something to do with your hands,” Kozume explained.

Keiji nodded their thanks and followed them out of the tent.

There was a small group of people gathering beside the storage tent. As they approached, Keiji heard Terushima’s loud laugh mixing with someone’s loud voice. There was a tall man with spiked black and white hair gesticulating wildly in the center of the group next to a large wooden table. A woman with shoulder-length brown hair and an affectionately exasperated face was the only one actually cooking. Sakusa was standing off to the side with a neutral, yet relaxed expression, and Keiji sidestepped to stand near him. Keiji’s newly polished fingers began tying the ribbon into small knots.

“My tent is a seven,” Sakusa said in lieu of a greeting. 

Interesting. A danger level seven means that the fight would be difficult with the possibility of injury. Sakusa rarely ranked anyone over four.

“Five,” they responded, eying the group in front of them.

Kozume had joined the group, but was still distant, fingers tapping their thigh. The boy with black and white hair had begun restraining his gestures to be smaller, more controlled, and when Kozume gave him a small smile, Keiji wondered why. The tall, silver haired boy they saw at their first arrival at the elemental camp had joined them and began talking animatedly to Kozume, who tried to shift away. The shorter one from earlier looked annoyed and apologetic.

Keiji shook their gaze away and turned to Sakusa. “They separate into three different groups for tasks. Nekoma, Dateko, and a Johzenji,” they told him in Tagalog. “My tent has one Johzenji and one Nekoma.”

Sakusa just nodded. “Two of mine are Dateko. The other is Moniwa, from the tent earlier. Apparently he’s second in command to Saeko.”

Keiji raised an eyebrow at the lack of honorifics, but didn’t comment. “Do you know where we are?”

Sakusa shrugged. “We’re still in Japan’s territory somewhere in southern North America.”

Keiji  _ tsk _ ed in disappointment at how vague that was. Since they won World War II, Japan controlled most of North America anyway.

Keiji had run out of ribbon, so they began untying it.

“I don’t trust any of them,” Sakusa grumbled after a few seconds of silence. “We’re too vulnerable separated; they could kill both of us.”

Keiji just shrugged. “So what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically during the flashback, Akaashi started reciting a bunch of rules that were at Fukurodani. Kenma is a patient babe. That's pretty much it lmao
> 
> Also, life is a disaster so my next update may take a little while. Sorry.


	5. In The Event Of Incompetence, Do It Yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm currently at one of the worst points I've ever been, but hey, at least I wrote shit.
> 
> I want all of their POVs to be in order by chapter (Akaashi, Kiyoko, Oikawa), but I accidentally started writing Oikawa's chapter instead, which is partially why this took so long.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: nongraphic character death, panic attacks, dissociation, and self-harm. Unfortunately, I can't provide a synopsis and call it good since Kiyoko's reaction influences the plot. Be wary.

  1. **Shimizu Kiyoko**



No one was expecting the knocks. There were three in total; two rapid ones followed by a single delayed knock. Kiyoko was filled overwhelming horror, her head snapping to her right to stare at the the wall that seperated her from the others.

The room was silent.

_ Not Daichi. _

__ “That-that was only one knock.” Shouyou’s voice was flat, stunned.

_ Please not Daichi. _

__ “Suga, you… You have to knock back to tell them you heard,” Hitoka whispered from the bottom bunk.

Suga’s face didn’t look like it had changed since the knock came, but Kiyoko didn’t know if her vision was very reliable right now.

_ “We all have numbers,” Ukai explained, crouching down to be level with Kiyoko’s small frame. “You’re number fourteen, since you’re the fourteenth person here. But soon they’ll bring another asset for your generation and you’ll start over with one.” _

__ When it was clear that Suga wasn’t going to move, Hitoka tentatively gave a single knock of acknowledgement back.

_ “Two quick knocks mean someone… someone died, okay?” Ukai’s hesitation of admitting that people died in Karasuno was clear, even to Kiyoko’s five year old mind. She gave a shaky nod. All of her action had become shaky after she was brought here. “So after those two fast knocks, they’ll knock the number of whoever died. _

__ “Suga, Suga, I’m scared. Look at me.”

_ There was a new boy. Ukai said that he would only be sharing a room with Kiyoko until the old generation left to fight elementals. The boy doesn’t look scared. His eyes look firm, like he’s going to take on the world, even as the guards fling him into the room. Kiyoko likes him. _

“Kiyoko, what’s wrong with them?!”

_ She wrote“I’m Shimizu Kiyoko. I’ve only been here a few months” on the wall with a tiny piece of rock. She still couldn’t speak at all after one of the more recent attempts to give her powers, so Shimada had found a rock to write with from under the bed. Takeda had been trying to teach her something called sign language, but she wasn’t very good at it yet. _

__ _ “I-I’m Sawamura Daichi.” _

Someone was keening. Suga? Kiyoko couldn’t hear over the blood in her ears.

This wasn’t the first time someone had died. Kiyoko’s head careened back into the memories, the grief. Tanaka; five knocks. Kinoshita; seven knocks. Ennoshita; six knocks. Narita; eight knocks. Natsu; thirteen knocks. There was one from the other generation, but she couldn’t remember her name.

Kiyoko only snapped out of her stupor when someone grabbed her arm. She blinked away tears she didn’t realise she had, and found Hitoka’s frantic face in front of her’s.

Suga was still keening.

_ You don’t deserve to grieve yet,  _ she told herself. Both Hitoka and Shouyou had clambered onto her bed, so Kiyoko gathered the two terrified teens into her arms, wincing as Shouyou was wracked with sobs that hurt Kiyoko’s throat to listen to. Hitoka was hyperventilating faster than Kiyoko had ever seen, and Suga was still fucking  _ keening _ .

Kiyoko supposed that if she could use her stupid powers to calm any of them, it would almost make it worth it.

“Breathe,” she murmured, primarily to Hitoka, but Shouyou took a shuddering breath as well. She doubted Suga had heard her, but she decided to leave them alone until the younger two were stable.

“It’ll be okay,” Kiyoko whispered, voice hoarse as ever. She didn’t really know what she was saying; it wouldn’t be okay. Daichi was the always untouchable one, even as a six year old torn away from his home.

_ You don’t deserve to grieve him. _

__ So she kept talking, keeping them breathing, urging them to sleep without outright telling them to. She kept their heads turned away from Suga. Daichi had been their leader, but Suga was their heart. The last thing Shouyou and Hitoka need is to see their heart tear their nails into their skin and dry heave their sobs. Hell, it’s the last thing Kiyoko needs. But she had instigated a massacre two days ago; she doesn’t deserve to feel anything, even as she watched one of her oldest friends rip themself apart.

Daichi had been everything to Suga. Daichi would carry the entire team and Suga would carry him. And now, Kiyoko would carry Suga. She would carry all of them if she had to.

The pressure was already threatening to choke her. Kiyoko couldn’t blame Daichi for dying. She wanted to die too.

She couldn’t though, so she forced it all away. None of them could afford for her to fall apart too. She just hoped that everyone in the other room would be okay; they had lived with him the longest, after all.

Shouyou fell asleep quickly to Kiyoko’s whispered comfort, although Hitoka took longer. Once she was certain they were asleep, Kiyoko extracted herself and carried them both to their own beds as carefully as she could. If it weren’t for her quick, “Stay asleep”, Kiyoko knew they would have woken up as she carried them off the top bunk. Despite her emotional distance from it all, she remembered to tell both of the sleeping teens that they could wake up whenever they needed to. Otherwise, she knew they would sleep until they died.

Kiyoko flinched at the thought, but forced the emotions away before she could properly name them. Suga was still crying.

Kiyoko pulled herself onto Suga’s bed with practiced ease and pushed away her sympathy at their state. Suga had pulled themself into the fetal position, nails dragging along their forearms more forcefully than Kiyoko had ever seen. Suga had scratched themself until they bled before, but never this bad.

Blood was streaming from their arms and down their legs into a pool of red on the dirt-stained sheets. All of Suga’s fingers had blood shining on them as the dragged across their skin in quick back-and-forth motions. The blood was on both hands, so they must have been alternating with arm they tore into.

At least they had stopped make all of those noises in favor of wrecking, wet breaths.

Kiyoko reached forward to grab Suga’s hand to prevent more harm, but the second she made contact, Suga contourted. A weak, terrified cry tore through their teeth as they flinched away and pressed themself into the wall behind them.

Kiyoko hated this.

“It’s me, it’s just Kiyoko,” she whispered, her voice sounding more natural now that she had been speaking for what Kiyoko guessed was about thirty minutes.

Suga only pressed their face into their bloodied arm and let a weeping noise escape them. Their hand kept raking up and down their forearm.

Kiyoko was so tired. She didn’t want to be; she knew that she had to support everyone. She always knew she would have to eventually; she had been at Karasuno the longest. But Daichi and Suga were so much  _ better  _ at it and Kiyoko was so, so tired.

“Suga, stop scratching.” She knew she shouldn’t order them. This was how Suga coped, this was always how Suga coped. But the blood had seeped into the knees of Kiyoko’s scrubs and she was afraid.

She pushed the guilt and fear away. She can’t have emotions anymore. That was a luxury Daichi had given her and now she had to take his place.

She had to make Suga strong again.

Suga’s nails had stopped their movements, but they still dug into the large, bloodied wound they had created. Sounds had started to fall from Suga’s lips, but this time they sounded like they had meaning. Kiyoko sat next to them against the wall and pulled them close like Suga had done to the younger ones so many times.

“I want to die, just let me die,” were the only words she could make out from Suga’s blubbering. Kiyoko didn’t know what to say when she felt the same.

This wasn’t just about Daichi, she knew. Kiyoko was not a fool; no one at Karasuno wanted to live. No, this was about every nightmare Suga couldn’t cry about because it would scare the kids. This was the about the pressure to keep everyone alive and somewhat happy. This was about their dysphoria. This was about the fear of how the other room might be coping. This was about the loss of the second person Suga had ever trusted.

And Kiyoko knew. This wasn’t the first time she had held Suga in her arms or the first time she had used her powers to ensure the kids didn’t see. But this time, Kiyoko couldn’t  _ afford  _ to know, couldn’t afford to feel, couldn’t afford to cry with them. She had to let Suga cry it out so that they would be able to function in the morning without scaring Shouyou and Hitoka.

So Kiyoko took both of Suga’s bloodied hands away from their arms and held them in her own.

“I need him, he can’t be gone-”

“I know,” Kiyoko whispered, the emotion she wouldn’t let herself acknowledge bleeding into her voice. So she said nothing else and rocked Suga back and forth.  _ I know. _

\-----------------

Hitoka was shaking in her arms, but Kiyoko didn’t mention it. She merely carded her fingers through Hitoka’s long blond hair and let her feel all of the emotions Kiyoko was denying herself.

_ It’s better this way. _

__ Kiyoko had only just returned from a weapon test to see Hitoka crying alone. Shouyou was gone for some kind of training, probably to work on his precision with his explosions. Suga was also gone, but they were undoubtedly meeting with some AE official. They had to whenever any of them died. Ukai and Takeda had done it too, before they had passed training.

Daichi normally went with Suga too. 

“Who do you think they’ll choose? To be in charge of the other room,” Hitoka murmured. Her voice was rough. Kiyoko didn’t mention that either.

Karasuno had set them up into the two rooms with one leader for each. They had probably intended for them to be seperate units, but Kiyoko wasn’t sure why they had chosen sex to be the deciding factor--wouldn’t dividing power level make them more competent individual units? Regardless, Kiyoko tilted her head, considering the question.

She shifted Hitoka from between her legs to sitting next to her with her legs across Kiyoko’s thighs so Hitoka could see her sign. Although Shouyou still hadn’t picked up much, Hitoka had been determined from the beginning to understand her without Suga.

_ “Hopefully not Asahi,” _ she signed with a small smile. A fake smile. It worked, though, and a soft, amused sigh tumbled out of Hitoka. Although Asahi had been at Karasuno for so long, he never did get over his fear of the place, with good reason. Despite his large stature, they all knew how timid he was.

Having successfully lightened Hitoka’s mood, albeit slightly, Kiyoko signed her answer.  _ “Probably Tsukishima.”  _ He was the only mature one that was at least slightly mentally stable.

A small crease formed between Hitoka’s eyebrows. “I would have thought it’d be Yamaguchi. Have they been getting worse?”

Kiyoko suppressed a grimace. If she told Hitoka everything, she’d become too worried, but…  _ “I think Yamaguchi doubts themself too much to lead,” _ she answered, making a conscious effort to make her signs as fluid as they normally were to avoid Hitoka’s suspicion. According to Daichi, Yamaguchi always heard more voices after someone died. They wouldn’t be in the state to lead.

Hitoka’s concern didn’t fade, but it didn’t worsen either. She opened her mouth to speak, but a sharp knock from the other room propelled Kiyoko out of Hitoka’s bed. Kiyoko had only just barely settled into her cross-legged position on her own bed when the door flew open. Suga was pushed into the room and the guards, uniform as ever, pointed to Hitoka and took her from the room.

Suga looked miserable. Granted, they were, but the dark circles under their eyes, the hunched posture, the wounds they refused to heal… It was hard to look at, but Kiyoko didn’t have the luxury of preserving her mental state.

Once the guards had disappeared with Hitoka, Kiyoko hopped from her bunk to where Suga stood blankly.

_ “Talk to me,” _ she signed, hoping Suga could focus their eyes enough to comprehend her.

Suga fell onto Shouyou’s empty bed with a small ‘oof’ before responding. “Tsukishima’s the other leader now,” they said, voice low and emotionless. Kiyoko nodded, having figured as much. There was a long pause before Suga broke the silence. “Fukurodani’s gone.”

Kiyoko froze as her brain tried to comprehend that sentence. Fukurodani was incredibly successful at creating assets. It had probably killed more elementals than any of the other AE companies. How could it be  _ gone? _

__ “Burned to the ground. They didn’t say how, but… We’re supposed to go out into the field in a week. First official mission is finding the two Fukurodani assets who escaped.”

The unspoken reason for Fukurodani’s fall was clear. The assets had rebelled.

Still though, there was something more important to be processed.  _ “A week? _ ” Her hands completed the sign aggressively. Her left palm stung a little from how hard she had brought her right hand down on it.

But Kiyoko’s head was working overtime and couldn’t focus on the pain. Ukai’s team had only permanently gone into the field when they were all at least over eighteen. Hitoka and Tobio were still fifteen…

Suga was shaking. “I-I don’t know how to protect them. They’re too young and Daichi-” they’re voiced broke. Kiyoko felt broken too.

But she couldn’t feel that way right now. They were all still reeling; she had to do something. She had to protect them. An idea wormed into her consciousness and Kiyoko shifted, her back to the door and her hands lower than usual to hide her signs from the cameras in the corners.

_ “Suga,” _ she signed, her fingers moving slowly over the letters.  _ “Fukurodani rebelled.” _

Suga nodded, confused. That was the most genuine emotion Kiyoko had seen since Suga’s breakdown.

_ “Why don’t we?” _

Suga stared at her hands for a few seconds, like they couldn’t quite compute what Kiyoko was saying. When they understood though, they sat up with a start, eyes wide and horrified.

“Kiyoko,  _ no _ , we can’t-only two people survived from  _ Fukurodani _ , how could-we could die-” The words tumbled out of Suga’s mouth quickly, trying to talk Kiyoko out of her plan as hurriedly as possible without explicitly saying it.

Kiyoko was already thinking to hard to care.  _ “We know that the hallway to the left of the weapons room isn’t connected to anything because of-” _ her hands hesitated, unsure if she should mention it,  _ “-the incident with Natsu. Shouyou can blow up the wall, so the rest of us just have to get him there. Hitoka can tell the others the plan.” _

Suga was still shaking their head wildly. “People could die-”

“People have already died,” Kiyoko snapped, not signing this time. She flinched a little at the hurt in Suga’s eyes at the reminder, but Kiyoko didn’t look away.  _ “People have already died,” _ she signed, hands firm.  _ “People will still die if we get sent into the field, and it won’t just be us.” _

This time, Suga was the one to flinch. “They’re just elementals,” they began, but Kiyoko rolled her eyes.

_ “We both know you don’t believe that.” _

Suga was quiet before they raised their hands to sign too and shifted their body. All of them knew the rooms were wire-tapped, but they could at least hide their hands from the cameras. Their hands were shaky though; they ordinarily only did this when they wanted to hide something from the kids.  _ “Tsukishima should stay with Shouyou, Kageyama and Hitoka,” _ they signed slowly.  _ “Fly them out if something goes wrong.” _

Kiyoko could tell Suga didn’t want to do this. The fear was in their eyes and the way their hands shook, but Kiyoko didn’t care.

She had to protect them and she knew that she couldn’t feel nothing forever. She had to get them into safety before she fell apart.

So they laid out a plan, hunched over in the corner of Shouyou’s bed, praying that for once, nothing would go wrong.

Kiyoko just hoped it wouldn’t end the same way it did with Fukurodani.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some bonus info that I wasn't able to fit into the dialogue:
> 
> -Kiyoko lived with the AFAB room until Karasuno got Daichi, at which point they put both of them together in a seperate room. They soon after added Suga and Asahi. Ukai's generation moved out of the training area after that and they were seperated by sex.
> 
> -It took multiple operations on Kiyoko's voice to get it right
> 
> -Yes I stole her powers from Killgrave. Let me live
> 
> -Yamaguchi is genderfluid! Since the AFAB room doesn't know what pronouns Yams will prefer that day, they always use they/them (unless someone has a sim with Yams, in which case they'll ask)
> 
> -Yams has schizophrenia. Not diagnosed bc Karasuno's a bitch and doesn't care, but the symptoms are there
> 
> -Suga is a healer, sorta. They take the injury onto themself, so they can't heal themself or any life-threatening injuries, although they can partially heal them
> 
> -Yachi does thought projection, but she can't do any other telepathic things
> 
> -Shouyou explodes shit lol. Natsu had similar powers.
> 
> -The reason I killed off most of the second year is because I wanted to include them, but couldn't have that many characters
> 
> -Daichi told Kiyoko that she could take the number one, but she declined because she was afraid of the responsibility it would bring (also this way the numbers match the jersey numbers)
> 
> -Death is literally the only reason the number system exists lmao. I needed a way for them to communicate Daichi's death
> 
> -All of the angst is me projecting so if it feels ooc, that's why


	6. Frozen Solid

  1. **Oikawa Tooru**



    She still wasn’t used to it. Even after six years, she couldn’t seem to adjust from the blessed dark nothingness to fluorescent lights and skull-splitting agony. Tooru couldn’t see the doctors working above her prostrate body. She couldn’t even read their minds. All she could feel was the all-consuming _pain_ and the heaviness in her limbs. She was held captive in the body the doctors were working to fix, paralyzed and incapable of any defense against the pain burning inside her.

    Eventually, she forgot that they were trying to save her from the multitude of bullet wounds, courtesy of her spar with Iwaizumi. All she could focus on was the agony and _oh god, this is what hell feels like._ The occasional silhouettes that blocked the too-bright lights were no longer doctors to Tooru; they were unknown figures torturing her for something she couldn’t recall.

    She was convinced there would be no end to the pain, but eventually it began to slowly ebb away, just as it did every other time they operated on her. Tooru lost consciousness before it completely disappeared.

\-----------

    Iwaizumi had a metal throat now. Tooru did a cursory scan of his thoughts to gauge how he was, and was pleased to find that, despite sounding mildly metallic, Iwaizumi could speak normally with only a slight bit of pain. Tooru pulled out of his head and into Kyoutani’s before she could reach his memory of his own operation, though. Kyoutani was nursing a headache and a bruised ego from the loss. Yabaha had a finger replaced with a prosthetic one. Tooru wondered why he kept losing fingers; that was Yahaba’s fifth prosthetic finger now. Watari had an arm in a sling and a broken nose, but would heal within the week. No one had died this time. All of them were pretending they didn’t hate how relieved they felt.

    Tooru had made this assessment within the time it took for the guards to push her into the room and exit.

    Tooru forced a carefree grin onto her face and flung herself at Iwaizumi. “ _Iwa-chan!_ ”

    Iwaizumi sidestepped her wide embrace with a mild grimace. “You shouldn’t run around like that after being shot, Idiotkawa.”

    Iwaizumi was right, he did sound a bit metallic now.

    Ignoring the Iwaizumi’s relief at her survival, Tooru dropped her widespread arms with a dismayed pout. “I’m all better now, I promise!”

    Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, clearly not believing her, but Tooru didn’t expect him to.

    “The fuck happened to your ear?”

    Tooru glanced over at Kyoutani, confused. Disregarding Yahaba’s aghast “Shut up!” and Watari smacking Kyoutani’s shoulder, she pushed farther into Kyoutani’s head to his vision.

    _Oh_.

    Tooru’s left ear had obviously been torn open from a bullet and the doctors didn’t deign to fix it at all. Other than being cleaned, she was left missing the bottom half of her ear and the top half in tatters.

    Tooru forced down the revulsion--both at the hanging, damaged skin and the experience of seeing herself secondhand--and refused to acknowledge their concern. She flapped her hand dismissively. “Ah, it’s alright. Not like my ear was doing me any good anyway,” she said airily.

    Kyoutani was confused by the plasticity of Tooru’s voice, but Tooru ignored it. His ignorance was better than whatever Iwaizumi was thinking--probably a mix of concern and melancholy.

    Before anyone could divert the conversation elsewhere, loud thoughts from outside the room thrust themselves into Tooru’s skull. They came suddenly and Tooru was too shocked to make sense of the emotion-charged jumble.

_“...Fukurodani’s most dangerous modified…”_

_“How can they still be missing?!”_

_“...into elemental territory...”_

_“...burned to the facility to the ground…”_

_“We have to send them out there!”_

_“It’s Karasuno’s division…”_

    Tooru hadn’t realized how frozen she’d become until Iwaizumi touched her arm. She flinched away on instinct, curling into herself, but then people’s screaming thoughts cut away as abruptly as they had began.

    Slowly coming back to the present, she slid back into Kyoutani’s head and became aware of Iwaizumi asking what was wrong in that tense, careful voice he always used when he was trying not to show his fear. Yahaba and Kyoutani were on their feet, hovering with tense confusion. Watari remained on the floor, but she could hear his thought of, _[Should I calm her down?]_

    Tooru put on a weak smile. “Sorry, just some people passed by…” She trailed off.

_What were they talking about? Why is Fukurodani missing assets? What’s in Karasuno’s division?_

    Iwaizumi flicked her forehead. “We’re not all mind-readers here,” he chided, his worry softening his tone.

    Every part of Tooru’s soul wanted to do anything except open her mouth. She just wanted to lay down and forget Iwaizumi’s concern, Yahaba’s exhaustion, Watari’s feelings of inadequacy, Kyoutani’s shame. She wanted to forget everything, but her hands were starting to go numb and her legs felt like stones, so if she didn’t talk now, she wouldn’t be able to for who knows how long.

    Tooru sat crossed legged on the floor, long since desensitized to the dirt and dust there. She knew she’d be unable to even sit up soon, so at least this way she lessened the chance of falling and getting a concussion. “Something happened at Fukurodani. I think some of their assets are missing.”

 _Pain._ It was always easier to hear thoughts when emotions were high and now everyone was _thinking_ and Tooru wanted everything to be quiet again. Tooru fell back against the floor, barely noticing the sting of the concrete against her forearm.

    Yahaba flinched at the onslaught of confusion and alarm. _[Too much emotion…!]_ Yahaba was screaming, and Tooru wanted to punch him. She would be able to handle this so much better if she didn’t have to feel everything _twice_ , thanks to Yahaba’s powers.Tooru would probably kill him herself to get this stupid emotional echo to disappear if she stand.

    “What do you mean missing?” Kyoutani scoffed, covering up his fear with bravado.

_[The loss of Fukurodani will mean that we’ll be put into the field early to replace them. We were supposed to have another year before we had to replace the previous generation…]_

    Damn Iwaizumi and his head. Tooru didn’t want to think about the future, about the people they’d have to murder once they leave Aoba Johsai. Tooru just wanted to feel her legs again.

    “Fukurodani has a clairvoyant,” Watari reasoned. “They’ll find them.”

    Yahaba was having a difficult time standing. Large bursts of emotion were hard for him, especially since he had a difficult time differentiating his emotions with everyone else’s. The alarm about a missing asset, in addition to the lingering pain from Tooru and Iwaizumi’s surgeries, was too much for him.

    “Watachi, could you be a dear and help Yahaba-chan?” Despite the words being lighthearted, Tooru’s voice was weak and flat.

    Watari startled out of his thoughts and glanced at Yahaba. Pushing himself off the ground, he led Yahaba to the corner and began speaking softly. He could have, of course, changed Yahaba’s mood instantaneously, but slowly leading someone into a more stable mood generally lasted longer, with less strain on Watari.

    Iwaizumi crouched next to Tooru’s shaky form and Kyoutani hesitantly backed into a corner. He was confused and angry about that very confusion, Tooru knew, but she couldn’t get up to talk to him. She didn’t know if she could talk at all.

    “Is this the operation or paralysis?” Iwaizumi murmured, worry flitting through his mind.

_Move. You have to move._

    The arm supporting Tooru was trembling. Tooru closed her eyes, gathering the strength in her body and shrugged her shoulders. Despite it being a small movement, Tooru could feel the breath it stole from her chest.

    Yahaba was still thinking too loud.

    “I’m going to help you lie down,” Iwaizumi whispered before tentatively placing a hand on Tooru’s back and lowering her to the ground. Tooru’s hair was in her face, itching her nose. She couldn’t move her hand to flick it back.

    It was like someone injected cement into her veins. Everything was too heavy to move, pushing everything _down_ . Yet, her mind was fine. Her mind moved normally, thinking as easily as ever, but she couldn’t _move_ , and _god_ , she felt helpless. Adrenaline was in her veins, chiding her stangance, pushing her to _act_ , but when she forced her foot to twitch, it was like she was kicked in the chest. One movement and she was _suffocating_ , her foot tingling with something adjacent to pain, so she just laid there. Just like she always did when this happened. And as she resigned herself to the prison that her body had become, she evaluated the state of the others.

    Yahaba was calming down. Watari’s pheromone manipulation was overriding Yahaba’s i instinct to personalize Tooru’s emotion, so while he could still feel it, he was no longer in danger of mistaking Tooru’s helplessness was his own.

    Watari was not calming down. While he couldn’t feel emotion like Yahaba could, he always panicked when Tooru was paralysed. Tooru couldn’t blame him. Tooru tended to panic too.

    Kyoutani was the opposite of calm. He couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t help anyone, he couldn’t even make fucking sense of what was going on--

    Tooru tore herself away from Kyoutani’s increasingly panicked thoughts. They were too similar to how Tooru was trying not to feel.

    Iwaizumi was calming himself down. Tooru felt herself relaxing even more as Iwaizumi brought himself through the exercise he used whenever he was having a panic attack.

_[There are roses in the front garden in front of the window. There are lillies on the side of the house. Mom was always happy when they bloomed. The house is two stories with red brick. There is a single step in front of the white front door. The doorknob is silver.]_

    It was his house, from before he was brought to Aoba Johsai. Tooru could envision Iwaizumi’s home easier than she could her own, now.

    Iwaizumi had finished describing the living room and moved to the kitchen when Tooru finally mustered enough energy to speak. The second she opened her mouth, she felt Iwaizumi’s attention snap to her.

    “Go help Kyoutani,” she breathed, her words stilting oddly. “Feels… inadequate.”

    Again, she felt the breath torn from her.

 _It’s like that sucking cleaner thing,_ she mused. _A vaccum? I can’t remember._

    She didn’t linger on the thought before turning her thoughts to focus on the snippets she heard earlier. She was dimly aware of Kyoutani snapping at Iwaizumi, but she let it die down into a dull hum of thoughts.

    The room she and the other Aoba Johsai assets lived in a “room” that was really just a concrete box. Outside those concrete walls was a small hallway that wrapped around the entirety of the room with doors to their training facilities. However, the far wall of that hallway had some science bullshit done to it that prevented Tooru from reading the minds of anyone on the other side. The only people Tooru could read were the other assets and the two guards station directly outside the door to the concrete room.

    Unless.

    There was a door in the square hallway that Tooru had only been through once. Outside of it, she knew, was the rest of the Aoba Johsai building, in which scientists did scientific things officials did official things to plot the genocide of elementals.

    Someone had opened that door. That was the only scenario in which Tooru could hear that many unknown people thinking at once, and yet…

    Aoba Johsai had always gone to great lengths to avoid something like this happening. During the guards’ shift changes, the entire facility was silent--aside from a few newer employees with their aggressive “stopthinkingstopthinking”s--so all Tooru had been able to learn about the other inhabitants of the building were unavoidable things, like if someone was cold, what it smelled like, what they tasted. Hell, everyone’s eyes were closed to prevent Tooru from mapping out the layout of the rooms. After six years of the door being open for around fifteen seconds every eight hours, all Tooru had learned was that most of Aoba Johsai smelled like chemicals and there was one receptionist who tended to spill coffee on himself.

    So why now? Why would Tooru hear any of this now? Was it done on purpose? Was this some sort of test?

    She moved away from that train of thought. Wondering the ‘why’ would get her nothing now; it would be better to understand everything she already knows before making any sort of conjecture.  _Compartmentalisation._

    Along with the conscious thoughts, Tooru had read anger, but stronger than that was the fear. Some of Fukurodani’s assets had escaped, she knew. But people had died. Fukurodani workers had died.

    The Aoba Johsai officials were afraid they would die too.

    Tooru had regained enough control over her body to tense her neck at the thought. When people in power were afraid, they got violent. Every time. Tooru forced her eyes open. She had to warn the others. If a guard got carried away and killed one of them… Tooru swallowed bile.

    She had just lost Makki and Mattsun. She couldn’t lose anyone else too.

    She wouldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even going to apologize for not updating for two months. I'm transferring to my fourth high school and relapsed into my eating disorder. Hopefully my next update won't take as long, but I have no guarentees. I will probably be uploading more oneshots though, so check those out if you want.
> 
> Also, the only paralyzatjon Tooru experiences here is a real thing! It's psychosomatic muscle weakness and it's something I deal with. Sorry, Tooru.  
> Iwa's house imaging thing is also something I do and the house I had him describe is my childhood house lmao.
> 
> By the way, I've forgotten to mention that I don't have a beta, so if you catch a mistake or want to beta for me, please let me know!


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